Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

Author's Note: Just some harmless fluff. Not my best, but …

Hostess

"Danny, hurry up, we got the call an hour ago." Lindsay Monroe drummed impatient fingers on the dashboard.

"Geez, Montana, what crawled up your butt and died this morning? I can't move in a parkin' lot." Danny gestured around to the traffic jam that surrounded them.

She sighed and mumbled something that may have been an apology. Danny rolled his eyes. She had been harping at him since he picked her up that morning. And not the with usual Montana snap-crackle-pop, he thought, sighing. He hated when Lindsay was upset, which should have worried him - Danny didn't generally worry about what anyone thought of him, except Mac.

Half an hour later, her mood was not improved by the smelly crime scene or a grumpy Don Flack. "This place reeks. Could you have taken any longer?"

"Off my back. Traffic was murder." Danny muttered. My luck, they're both on their time of the month. He chuckled at his own joke.

"Yeah, sure, laugh away, Messer. This vic's not going to smell any better the longer we wait," Lindsay harrumphed.

Flack glanced at him. "What did you do?"

"Nothin' man, nothin'."

Shaking his head, Danny proceeded to get to work. The vic was a middle-aged woman - her clothing suggested she was a prostitute - who had been stabbed multiple times and left in an abandoned warehouse near the garment district. Frequented by the homeless, it stank of urine, alcohol and the unclean bodies that lived there.

By the time they were done, both Danny and Lindsay needed a shower and rushed back to the lab. An hour later, both emerged from their locker rooms refreshed. "Feelin' better?"

"I'll feel better when I'm home for the day, Danny, let's get this done."

Lindsay stalked off, and a mystified Danny was left in her wake. Stella Bonasera walked by. "What did you do this time, Danny?"

"Why does everyone assume it was me?"

"Because nine times out of 10, it is."

"Yeah, well, maybe she's on her period or somethin'."

Stella moaned and slapped Danny on the side of the head. "Could you be anymore of a stupid man? Just please, don't say that to Lindsay, or we'll have another DB to process."

Shrugging, Danny moved on to the lab. Lindsay was checking her email, and Danny decided to just lay low and let her be, until he heard the unmistakable sounds of "Happy Birthday" coming from her computer. He turned around to see Lindsay lay her head down on her arms as a birthday e-card played.

"Hey Montana! It's your birthday?"

"Not a word, Messer, not a word."

Danny ignored her. "I'm surprised Stella didn't get a cake or somethin'. I would have, if I'd known."

Lindsay sighed. "I asked Mac not to tell anyone when my birthday is. It's something I don't celebrate." She saw Danny open his mouth. "Don't ask, okay?"

Normally, he would have, but the sad look on her face had him obediently closing his mouth. Man, those eyes ... Dammit, Messer, you're not her type. Leave her alone.

Throughout the day, he tried to be as helpful as possible. Blood found on the murder weapon turned out to belong to the vic and another known prostitute. Turns out the suspect killed the woman because she was "moving in on my territory."

Danny patted Lindsay on the shoulder. "Go ahead, I'll do the paperwork. Go home."

She smiled. "Thanks, Danny. Sorry about earlier." Lindsay turned to leave, but decided she owed him an explanation.

"My mother died right after I was born. She was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was pregnant, and delayed treatment to bring me into the world. She was so sick after I was born - she died a week later. I guess this time of year was always hard for my dad, so ..."

"Little Montana's birthday was not a priority. I get it."

"That card today? My sister Beth. She's always trying to get me to 'lighten up.'"

"Maybe you should listen. I'm sure your ma wouldn't want you mopin' around." Danny reached out, tucking a curl behind her ear.

Lindsay tingled with the familiar tension between them. Is this always going to happen when he touches me? "Yeah, maybe. But you have to start small, you know? I couldn't handle a huge cake from Stella - you know how she is."

They said their good-byes and Lindsay headed home. An hour later, Danny was done with paperwork, but he wasn't done with Montana.

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Lindsay had a mouthful of Cheetoes and was wearing ratty sweats when there was knock at the door. She tried to wash it down quickly with her pop, and ended up practically choking herself.

"Lindsay? I hear you in there. You okay?" Danny pounded on the door.

An embarrassed Lindsay, just now noticing her Cheeto dust-covered fingers, hastened to open the door. "Sorry, Danny, you just surprised me." She took another sip of pop and felt better. "What are you doing here?"

Danny followed her inside. "Just checkin' on ya."

"Well, short of nearly killing myself with my addiction to Cheetoes, I'm fine. Just knee-deep in some chick flicks. I'm okay, Danny, really."

When he made no move to leave, she cocked her head questioningly at him. "Was there anything else?"

Danny, himself a little nervous, cleared his throat. "Well, um, I was just thinkin' about your birthday, and I couldn't let it go, so ... close your eyes."

"Danny, I told you - "

"Humor me, Montana."

She sighed and finally did what he asked. She could hear the rustling of the paper bag brought with him. A minute later, he said, "Open your eyes."

Danny was standing in front of her, a proud grin on his face. In his hand was a Hostess cupcake with an evidence swab flaming dangerously on top. "Sorry, I couldn't find candles on short notice."

"I don't know what to say ..."

"Well, it ain't much, but you did say you wanted to start small. It may be a little stale - it's from the vending machine at the lab. You better blow it out, those swabs are highly flammable."

She gazed at him a moment, eyes twinkling, then tried unsuccessfully to blow out the "candle."

Danny laughed. "Hey, you really are out of practice! Now, on the count of three ..."

The pair blew the candle out together. Danny handed her the cupcake and reached for the other one that came in the package. They were munching away when Lindsay smiled at him.

"You know, Danny, that is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me."

"A Hostess cupcake? Now that's sad, Montana."

"Hey, didn't anyone tell you it's the thought that counts?" She reached up and touched his cheek.

Danny warmed at her touch. Danger! Danger! the player in him shouted. He decided to change the subject. "Hey, what did ya wish for?"

She blushed slightly. "I'm not allowed to tell. I do seem to remember that if you tell what you wished for, it won't come true."

Danny looked at her intently, then finally came to a decision. "I made a wish, too, ya know. I figure since I helped blow out the candle, I could."

"Now don't tell me what it is, Danny, it's against the rules." Lindsay smiled at him.

"Oh no, I'm not going to tell ya." With that, he leaned over, pulling her toward him and capturing her lips with his.

Though stunned, Lindsay felt herself responding, reaching around his neck and opening her mouth to him when his tongue requested entry. When they pulled away, Danny rested his forehead on hers.

"Actions speak louder than words, Montana. I don't wish for things ... I make them happen."

Lindsay was quiet, and Danny became a bit worried. "I didn't mess things, up, did I?"

She smiled. "No ... you just proved that wishes can come true."

Danny responded by kissing her - thoroughly. He smiled against her lips.

"Happy Birthday, Montana."

The end